And Into The Light
by gategirl
Summary: They killed his father, his only family. And instead of justice, instead of paying for what they did, they're praised as heroes. Tom Riccoli may be dead, but his son isn't. And he has plans, big plans. E/O
1. Prologue

Author's Note: I sincerely want to thank all of you for your amazing reviews of the Through the Darkness. They blew me away, some of those reviews. Thank you. You know who you are. I hope that you like this story as much as you liked that one, maybe even more ;-). Happy reading.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything SVU related. I mean no infringement or disrespect to anyone who does own them.

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Prologue

* * *

He watched from the shadows, his eyes focused on the couple across the street and several buildings away. He was too far away to hear the words they exchanged, but he was close enough to commit to memory every aspect of his prey.

His hands clenched around the dagger in his pocket, the blade cutting sharply into his palm. Pain flared through him and he smiled.

His eyes tracked his victims as they shuffled through the moderately crowded New York streets. He moved with them, never leaving the blessed dark cloak of the shadows. He had been patiently planning the perfect retribution, the perfect game for his targets.

For the past two months he bided his time, letting them settle back into their lives, watching as they went through each day as though they weren't responsible for the murder of his father.

She flashed her partner a smile, playfully giving his shoulder a shove as they continued down the street, blissfully unaware of their shadowy stalker.

He stood in the shadows watching in seething vehemence as the pair walked into the precinct building.

He felt the blistering rage build inside him, smelled the acrid stench of the blood that had seeped through the fabric of his coat, and felt a shiver of excitement race through him. He smiled slowly, the grotesque grin transforming his face into that of a nightmarish demon.

The time had finally come.

Detectives Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson would at last pay for the execution of his father.

And they would pay, dearly.

* * *

Reviews appreciated


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything... No infringement intended... Please don't sue :-)

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His victims agonized screams echoed in the enormous expanse of the secluded warehouse he'd chosen. He smiled. The smile was one that in another place and time would've been described as charming, but now was just a terrifying twist of lips and teeth.

The young girl in front of him stared at back at him in horror, her mouth frozen in a scream of agony. She twisted on the hook he'd painstakingly inserted into her body just as he had with the others.

He checked his watch with clinical detachment and flashed the girl another smile. He had successfully achieved a maximum of two hours of consciousness with each girl. He felt a giddy sense of triumph at the fact. Everything was working out just as he'd planned. And he knew that soon he'd be able to put his new talent into practice on the pair of detectives that had ended his father's life.

The blade in his hand was slick with blood, the liquid coursing down his hand and arm in a crimson cascade of wet warmth. He drew the blade across her skin slowly, a thin rivulet of blood chasing the glinting steel. The blade moved over her skin one final time, silencing her screams.

He smiled proudly, stepping back to admire his achievement before turning to face the last girl.

She stared at him, her eyes wide with fear, tears streaking down her unstained skin.

He stood perfectly still, the bloody blade still clutched tightly in his hand.

"Please," she whimpered, her body rigid with fear and pain.

He stared at her in silence for long minutes before moving towards her with the swiftness and grace of a panther, and all the lethal danger of an animal on the hunt. He circled around her, his free hand seizing her hair roughly.

"Scream for me," he commanded bringing his knife hand up in front of her, his body pressed tightly against her.

"Scream," he demanded as he brought the knife arcing down.

* * *

Elliot very narrowly escaped slipping in the lake sized pool of blood that had gathered under the victims bodies. Bodies, plural. Elliot shuddered, trying to remain cool and detached, trying not to focus on the young women's faces.

Blood rained down around them, drops of scarlet pelting their already velvety rain slickers.

When they'd shown up to the scene they had been met by a young officer, his face solemn and sickly pale, handing out slickers. Olivia had taken one look at his face and she had known that what waited for them in the warehouse was going to be bad, the kind of stuff that would haunt your nights and days equally. She braced herself, taking the slicker from the kid's badly shaking hands.

She'd thought she'd been prepared. But she hadn't. Not nearly.

The first thing that hit her as she walked into the cavernous warehouse was the smell. The nauseating stench of blood and death hit her like a freight train as soon as she stepped over the threshold.

The second thing that she saw stopped her in her tracks and caused her to choke back a scream of outrage and empathetic pain. Dangling from long chains attached to the roof of the warehouse five young girls hung like bloodied marionette dolls.

The girls had been stripped and hung from butcher hooks that speared up through just enough of their skin and tissue that their weight was supported, barely. Olivia could see the tears in the skin as she approached and felt her stomach churn. Their skin was slick with blood, skin sliced open at various depths and angles. Their faces were twisted in an expression of agony and terror.

Olivia felt her lunch congeal in her stomach as another bright red drop splashed to an abrupt halt on her forearm.

When Olivia turned to move away she heard a small sound coming from behind her. She turned quickly and immediately scanned the bodies floating eerily overhead. She stood for several seconds before turning and shouting for quiet. She caught Elliot's eyes for a brief moment, sharing a moment of absolute horror that one of the girls might still be alive, hanging there in agony. She turned back to the grotesque puppets dangling overhead, her eyes carefully scanning the bodies for any sign of life, her ears straining in the sudden quiet to hear the slightest vibration of sound.

Olivia saw one of the bodies twitch in her peripheral vision, a small shudder of pain accompanied by the softest whisper of an agonized moan. Olivia turned and shouted over her shoulder, "She's alive! Someone call EMS and get a ladder."

* * *

"We were able to stop the bleeding," the doctor said facing the detectives with a haunted look in his eyes that spoke heavily of inexperienced youth. Olivia felt sympathy well up inside her as she watched the twenty-something year old doctor being dragged down into the kind of hellish nightmare most people never even dreamed existed. His young face drained of color and his eyes gleamed like pools of liquid emotion. When he spoke his throat was clogged with concealed horror.

"Most of the cuts she sustained were relatively shallow." The doctor handed Elliot a stack of Polaroids he pulled from the pocket of his lab coat.

"At first glance," the doctor continued, his words flat and toneless, carefully detached. "The slashes across her body appear random. But when we cleaned them a pattern began to emerge," he gestured to the photos, the small motion seeming to tax his already waning strength. "They form a string of letters and a sequence of numbers," he finished, his expression darkening, his eyes forming a hard crystalline structure in their depths.

Olivia knew that expression well, she had seen it enough in her own reflection in her rookie days. She knew the unbearable outrage and uncontrollable revulsion she had felt. And now she saw it reflected back at her through the eyes of the young doctor.

"So she's stable?" Olivia asked shaking the vestiges of the past from her mind.

"For now," came the doctor's sober reply. "She's lost a lot of blood and suffered severe trauma to a significant portion of her body. We'll know more in a few hours."

* * *

Olivia stood beside Elliot in the M.E.'s office, the sudden coolness of air after the warmth of the day outside, making goose bumps rise on Olivia's skin.

"All the girls died from the same injury," Melinda Warner was saying. "After the son of a bitch tortured them for several hours at least," she said angrily, walking over to stand beside the board she'd set up before she'd called the detectives. She pointed to one of the many pictures that had been tacked there, exhibiting the gruesome illustrations of the killers' execution. "He sliced through their throats, severing the carotid artery," she finished pointing at the injuries. "Death would've taken several minutes."

Elliot looked at the pictures, trying not to linger on their faces, knowing they would haunt his nights. After a few seconds he turned away from the pictures, looking at the M.E. "The cuts on the girls?" He asked brusquely, cocking his head at the photos. "Did they form any sort of pattern?"

"I was just getting to that," she answered calmly, her eyes flitting to Olivia's briefly before returning to the pictures of the cuts she'd taken and tacked to the board. "The cuts themselves weren't particularly deep. The blade was inserted and drawn down smoothly across the skin, cutting through only the first few layers of epidermis," she explained. "Each girl has a different set of letters and numbers cut into their skin."

* * *

Elliot laid the pictures out along the table in one of the interview rooms. The pictures of all five victims splayed across the table. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the pictures and block out the other images that had plagued him since hearing Melinda's report on how the girls had suffered.

He turned the case over and over in his mind, as he rearranged the pictures on the table. There were too many things that didn't add up. Why leave one girl alive? Why etch the girls with seemingly random nonsense? Why five girls? Elliot squinted at the pictures as the questions swirled rapidly behind his eyes. "What am I missing?" He whispered, slamming his hand against the table in frustration.

Olivia opened the door of the interview room, silently watching Elliot as he rearranged the pictures on the table. The squad room was all but deserted; even the most dedicated cops having gone home hours ago for much needed rest.

But Elliot had stayed. Elliot had stayed, so Olivia had stayed, staring at the pictures for hours.

"Elliot," Olivia said quietly, her voice echoing in the tomblike silence of the station house.

Elliot glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes filled with exhaustion. "I keep running through the case in my head Liv. Something doesn't feel right. I feel like we're missing something here. Something that should be obvious," he growled in frustration.

Olivia walked into the room, closing the door behind her. She crossed the small room and stood beside him, resting her hand gently on his back. "El," she said, her hand moving in small circles on his back. "You need to rest."

Elliot shuffled the pictures around on the table, his eyes blurring with the motion. "I need to work out what this means," he said, his voice trailing off, his eyes snapping into focus on the pictures.

"God," he breathed, his back tensing under Olivia's hand. The pictures stared up at him, the pattern finally locked in place. The words the killer had carved piercing through him like a rusty knife.

Olivia leaned over his shoulder, her eyes on the pictures. "What is it Elliot?"

"MEA EST VINDICTA," he spoke softly, moving away from the table.

Olivia took his place in front of the pictures. "What does that mean?" She asked, looking between him and the pictures.

"Vengeance is mine."

Olivia's eyes rose to meet Elliot's. "Our perp knew these girls."

Elliot shook his head. "I don't think this guy knew these girls at all."

"Why?" She asked.

Elliot gestured to the pictures. "The numbers that run under the words," he said, pausing as she looked back at the pictures.

"They're our badge numbers."

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Hey.... since you're already down here.... How's about a little review? :-)


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: I apologize for the delay in updates. It's hard to find the inspiration sometimes as I'm sure some of you know. I hope you like it.

_Happy Reading_

******

He stood silently in the shadows of the darkened apartment, the tendrils of darkness forming a second skin, enveloping him into their depths. His eyes tracked her, his finger resting securely on the trigger, pressing it firmly in rapid succession.

The shutter of the high speed camera in his hands clicked rapidly. He watched her in safety from an apartment across the street as she walked into her bathroom, flipping on the light as she went. She bent over the tub, turning on the water for a bath. He watched her as she reached for the hem of her shirt, his camera clicking swiftly as she pulled the shirt over her head revealing the creamy golden skin hidden beneath the fabric.

After snapping several more pictures he sat the camera down on the windowsill, turning to face the occupants of the loft he had hijacked for his use. They lay bound and gagged on the floor, their eyes trained on him in wary attention. He smiled down at them.

"Time to leave another message," he said, his voice echoing through the darkness.

He moved further into the blackness, retrieving the bag of tools he'd brought with him, before moving back to stand in the small pool of light that filtered in through the windows.

"Let's get started shall we?" He asked the couple, smiling down at the trussed pair lying motionless on the floor. He held up the glinting steel of the small razor blade in his hand, his eyes flashing with excitement.

******

The pounding on her front door was the thing that finally woke her. Her alarm clock failed to rouse her into consciousness, the ringing of her phone nothing more than an annoying buzz in the background of the dark dreamless sleep she had been able to sink into only an hour ago.

Olivia dragged herself out of bed, barely resisting the urge to grab her gun from the bedside table as she made her way irritably to the front door.

She yanked the door open and found Elliot standing there, his face drawn and grim. She felt some of her irritation ebb as she studied his haggard appearance. Evidently she wasn't the only one who'd had trouble sleeping last night.

Elliot held out a large cup of to go coffee to her, which Olivia accepted gratefully, not pausing to cool the near scalding liquid before taking a huge gulp. She felt the rush of the caffeine shoot through her almost immediately, improving her mood greatly.

Olivia motioned Elliot into her apartment, swinging the door shut behind him. "Cap gave us the morning off remember?" Olivia asked sauntering past him with a look of mild reprove.

"What's going on El?" She asked perching on the edge of her couch, sipping her coffee and regarding him with an inquiring look.

Elliot watched her, her cup of coffee cradled protectively in her hands, and regretted for the millionth time his decision not to come over last night when sleep wouldn't come to him. He'd known instinctively that sleep wouldn't find her either, just as he had known they would find peace together.

Elliot cleared his throat, spotting the almost smile tugging at her lips as she noticed him staring at her. "Double homicide," he said quietly, noting how her face immediately sobered. She rose from her seat on the arm of the couch and handed him her coffee, walking into her bedroom to get changed.

Elliot followed her, leaning against the open doorway that led to her bedroom. She rummaged around in her dresser, pulling out several items before sliding the drawers shut.

"Where?" She asked, quickly undressing. Elliot stood in the doorway holding her coffee, watching silently as she changed.

"Across the street," Elliot answered, his mouth set in a grim line.

******

Olivia walked onto the scene and was immediately assaulted by the overwhelmingly pungent stench of decay and death. Blood spatters decorated every available surface of the room like some grotesque art project gone wrong. Hanging from the exposed wooden beams of the loft, a pair of headless bodies hung, suspended in mid-air by the rope tied around their wrists. Their clothes had been shredded until nothing but tatters remained, dangling from what was left of the people they had once belonged to.

"We got the call about an hour ago," Elliot told her.

Olivia surveyed the scene, her detective's eye cataloging everything. "Who called it in?" She asked, making her way through the apartment.

"Anonymous," Elliot told her. "TARU traced it to a cell; prepaid."

Olivia moved over to the far wall behind the bodies. The wall was covered in dried blood script; the words "flex hint fad" scrolled across the entire wall. "Do we know who the vics are?" She asked, her eyes scanning the wall.

"With the state of the bodies ID is going to be difficult. We're working off the assumption that the victims are the owners of the loft," Elliot informed her. "A young newlywed couple, Marissa and Jacob Piere," he said checking his notes.

Olivia bent down, noticing a block of smaller words underneath the nonsensical words that spanned the wall.

Benson & Stabler:

Juries of your peers acquiesce with your position

Understanding of your transgression

Some will lose their lives in fight

Two won't live throughout the night

In your hands fate does play

Catch me soon or more will pay

Everyone must pay for death unfair

In one brief moment he was gone, executed by you

Now you'll come to know all of his despair

Death has come for its revenge

Endless torment and gruesome fear

All his pain you'll feel

Time has developed into a wound that will not heal

Her cries of pain will forever echo through my reign

See you soon…

******

The world felt like it was spinning off its axis, falling further and further away from reality. Olivia sat on the edge of her desk, the strange poem echoing through her mind, a fresh cup of coffee clutched tightly in her hands.

Elliot leaned against the edge of his desk only a few inches from her, silent as they listened to their captain bring the task force that had been assembled up to speed on the case.

"You all have your assignments," Cragen said grimly. "Get to work."

Elliot and Olivia sat unmoving as the rest of the squad broke apart, each moving to carry out their assignments. Elliot looked over at the big board that had been set up in the squad room, all the information they'd gathered about the case staring back at him.

Elliot's eyes traveled to his partner, noticing that Olivia hadn't moved at all since the briefing had begun, her eyes transfixed on the black liquid in her cup. "Liv," Elliot said softly, nudging her arm with his elbow. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, coffee sloshing in her cup as she jumped.

"Sorry," she said distractedly, reaching behind her to place her cup on the desk.

"You okay?" Elliot asked, his eyes studying her face.

Olivia smiled at the absurdity of the question. Elliot smiled back at her, realizing the reason for her smile immediately. "Stupid question," he said with a grin. Olivia shifted to get into a better position, her arm brushing against Elliot's forearm.

"I've just been thinking. That creepy poem he left for us, the random string of words… I know it all means something," she said looking away from him and towards the board. "Something important, and we're missing it."

Elliot got up from his perch on his desk, moving to stand in front of the board. His eyes narrowed in concentration, his arms lay folded across his chest. "Okay, let's start with the poem, we'll take it line by line."

Olivia got up and stood beside him, her eyes glued to the board. "I think the first few lines are pretty straight forward," she said raising her hand to point to the lines in question. "This guy obviously thinks we've done something wrong and that the force is looking the other way. The fourth line, 'Two won't live throughout the night. Sounds like he's targeting cops," Olivia said, running her finger along the lines. "This line here where he says 'In one brief moment he was gone, executed by you' has got to be the motive behind all these murders. The answer to this guy's identity has got to be in one of our old cases."

Elliot focused on the board laid out in front of him. "That's a lot of area to cover," Elliot said frustrated.

Olivia shook her head. "We don't have to look through every case we've ever worked," she reasoned. "This guy probably hasn't been nursing his grudge for more than a year or two at most. If we only look at the cases within that time frame, factoring in the cases where someone was killed, and it should narrow the field down significantly."

******

Elliot's eyes swam, the words on the screen all melding together to make one giant blob. He glanced at his watch and instantly felt the drain of the late hour hit him full force. They had been working almost nonstop for more than six hours. Most of the officers in the precinct had gone home to get some much needed rest, only a handful staying to work through the night. He glanced at the window, the blanket of night covering the visible skyline of Manhattan in its inky darkness. He leaned back in his chair with a loud yawn, stretching his arms overhead. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, rubbing the soreness away.

"Find anything?" Elliot questioned opening his eyes.

Olivia raised her eyes to his briefly, giving him an annoyed look before returning her gaze to the screen in front of her mumbling something that he couldn't quite make out but didn't _sound_ like anything friendly.

Elliot stood up from his desk. "I'm going for coffee. Want some?" He asked her.

Olivia flashed him a grateful smile. "That would be great," she answered.

Elliot nodded, smiling back at her. He grabbed his coat and pulled it on, disappearing out the door a few seconds later.

Olivia turned her attention back to the screen, so absorbed in it that she didn't realize someone was standing in front of her until he spoke. "Excuse me," his deep voice boomed, causing Olivia to jump slightly in her seat. She looked up to find a gangly young man, shaggy brown hair standing in complete disarray, standing by Elliot's desk. "I'm looking for Detective Stabler," he said checking his clipboard, a large bulky envelope clutched in his other hand.

"He just stepped out. I'll sign for it," Olivia offered rising from her chair. He handed her the thick envelope and the clipboard with a smile.

"Thanks," Olivia said signing quickly before handing him back the clipboard.

"Have a good night," the delivery guy said jovially.

"You too," she said tossing the envelope onto the piles of folders that nearly encompassed Elliot's desk.

She sat back down and started going through the old cases again. Riccoli's case file was on her screen, his mugshot staring back at her. She tried to focus on the words, the facts of the case, but she could feel her skin crawling as memories of her captivity came back unbidden. She could still hear his voice in her head, felt the sickening touch of his hand on her skin. His last words haunted her every day, a waking nightmare that she couldn't shake. '_You'll always be mine_. _I'll never be gone.'_

Olivia jumped as she felt a hand land on her shoulder. She looked up to find Elliot staring at her, a look of concern on his face. "You okay?" He asked handing her a cup of coffee. She smiled at him, shaking off the remnants of the disturbing memories she'd been trapped in.

"Thought you were going to stop asking dumb questions," she said sitting her cup down on the edge of her desk untouched. Elliot flashed her a smile, moving towards his desk.

"If I did that I'd never be able to talk to you again," he said teasingly. He gestured to the envelope on top of all his case files with his cup. "What's this?" He asked. Olivia looked up at him.

"You had a delivery while you were gone," she answered.

Elliot sat down at his desk, pushing aside a mound of paperwork to make room for his coffee cup. He grabbed the envelope and ripped it open, pulling out a stack of pictures. Elliot's jaw tightened, anger pulsing inside him, cold fear chasing right behind, as he flipped through the pictures. Everything else faded away as he clutched the pictures tightly in his hands, his fingers aching from the strength of his grip. He faintly heard Olivia call out to him, her voice sounding impossibly far away. He shook his head, clearing away the haze of emotion that had momentarily held him in its paralyzing grip.

"What is it?" Olivia asked worriedly, watching him with growing concern.

He tossed the pictures onto the desk in front of her, sending her coffee flying off the edge with a splash. Olivia sat motionless, staring at the pictures in front of her. She raised her eyes to Elliot's, her face draining of color.

"Are they all pictures of me?" She asked staring at the picture laid out in front of her, taken of her getting ready for bed. Olivia shuddered to thin of someone watching her, photographing her. She found herself wondering if she was still being watched, an unsettling thought to say the least.

Elliot shook his head. "Not all of them," he growled, rage leeching into his voice. "The last two are something else," he said leaning across his desk to grab the pictures in question, holding them up for her to see.

The first was a picture, a close-up of a bloodied terrified woman in uniform, the woman bearing a striking resemblance to her, her eyes haunted as she posed for the picture. Olivia felt her heart twist painfully in her chest, the woman's circumstance bringing back tormented memories of Riccoli. Olivia found herself momentarily transported back to the basement of the school where she'd been held prisoner, watching history play out through the vacant eyes of someone who was about to die. She saw his knife arcing down, the glint of the steel like lightning to her mind. She felt coldness creep into her body, the memory of the knife sliding into her making her chest tighten in remembrance. She absently placed her hand over the scar on her chest, struggling to regain her composure, stifling the urge to scream. The last thing included in the packet was a newspaper clipping on Elliot and Olivia's commendation for saving the Bregman girls.

Olivia felt all the air rush out of the room as her eyes quickly scanned the article.

"Riccoli," she whispered shakily.

******

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	4. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I apologize that this chapter both took so long to get out and is shorter than I originally intended. Thank you to all of you who waited so patiently. And Thank You all so much for your reviews. Happy reading.

******

Olivia stood in the squad room her eyes scanning the poem for what had to be the thousandth time, every inch of her feeling the strain of her sleepless night. Every time she'd closed her eyes Riccoli's face had surged up through the darkness and she would jerk awake, her heart pumping thick with fear. After a while she'd given up trying to sleep, instead mainlining coffee, which had kept her awake but was making her incredibly edgy. She felt a hand land on her shoulder and jumped, only barely resisting the urge to scream. She glanced over her shoulder to see Cragen standing there, a concerned look in his eyes.

"You need to get some sleep Olivia," he said quietly. "You can't catch this guy by yourself," he told her.

"I just… I really need to work right now," she said tiredly, watching him for a second before turning back to the board. "This poem," she said softly, "is unnecessarily long. He could have gotten the same message across without going to so much detail. And why even leave a poem?" She questioned glancing over at her captain.

Cragen stood beside her for several long minutes, his eyes scanning, before he saw it. He grabbed a pen from Olivia's desk and leaned forward, circling the first letter of every line. He stood back from the board and glanced at Olivia. "Justice In Death," he said quietly.

"How did I miss that?" Olivia asked in disbelief. "I've been staring at this damn board for hours and I never saw it."

"Give yourself a break," Cragen said, moving to stand between her and the board. "Did you even go home last night?" He questioned. "Don't answer that," Cragen said holding up his hand as she began to answer. "I don't want to know. This is understandably disturbing for you, with the recent ties that have surfaced to Riccoli. I can't even imagine what you must be feeling right now," he said sympathetically. "I can't afford to lose you on this Olivia. You have experience with Riccoli that could prove crucial to this case. But if you keep going this way I'll have no choice. You're no good to me running on fumes. I need you clear headed and you need rest. Do us both a favor and get some sleep Olivia," he said. "Or I'll have no choice but to send you home," he added when it looked like she was about to object, noting how her jaw tightened at the thought of going home. "Catch some sleep up in the crib or go home detective. Those are your choices."

Olivia nodded tightly, moving towards the stairs that would take her to the crib. She glanced over at Elliot's desk, noticing for the first time all morning that it was empty. "Where's Elliot?" She asked, climbing the stairs to the crib slowly.

"Executing a search warrant," Cragen told her. "Munch decoded the anagram," he said gesturing to the board where "flex hint fad" was written and underneath that Munch had written Fifth and Lex. "Your partner's over there now."

******

Elliot tensed, bringing his gun up as the leader of the tac team finished the silent countdown. They moved quickly and quietly into the building.

The first thing that hit Elliot was the absolute silence as they walked into the building. Elliot's eyes darted around the wide open space before him. The second thing that he noticed was that although it was a bright sunny morning outside the store was dimly lit and barely enough light to illuminate the small group of people tied to chairs in the middle of the room filtered in through the heavily draped windows.

There were five terrified captives tied to metal chairs, their mouths gagged with duct tape. On each piece of tape a word was written in bright red marker. The team made a quick sweep of the building, coming back several seconds later.

"Building's clear," the team leader announced. "Let's get these people out of here," he said motioning to his men. They holstered their weapons, moving forward to untie the hostages. Almost as one the hostages let out a muffled cry, some frantically shaking their heads while others were just shaking, tears pouring down their faces.

Elliot holstered his gun, holding up his hands to show the hostages he was unarmed. "It's alright," he said soothingly, giving them a small smile. "We're here to help you." He motioned to the officer next to him to move forward slowly. "We're the police." As those words left his mouth he heard an ominous click, a click that sounded hauntingly familiar. For a split second Elliot could actually feel the hot desert sun on his skin, the smell of death surrounding him. Over a decade ago that sound had very nearly been the last thing he heard.

"No one move!" Elliot shouted. The officers in the room froze, shooting confused glances all around them. But the hostages seemed even more terrified than before. "Someone has activated the trigger on what sounded like a pressure plate. Don't move anymore than you absolutely have to, and whatever you do don't move your feet." Elliot took a deep breath to steady himself before continuing. "Everyone check the floor beneath you. We need to find the person or persons on the trigger quickly." He looked carefully down at the floor, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw nothing but the solid wood flooring beneath his shoes.

Elliot relaxed visibly, glancing around at the other officers. He noticed that the kid next to him was standing frozen, his face pale and drawn. Elliot looked down at the officer's feet and saw the corner of a pressure plate peeking out from beneath the fringed border of the floor rug.

The room was suddenly filled with a low buzzing noise, the buzzing growing increasingly louder with each passing second. The lights began to flicker wildly, and the muffled cries of the hostages reached a new crescendo, their wails combining into one eerie voice. Elliot looked back at the group, their faces twisted in agony as they jolted violently in their seats. It only took a second, a second that seemed frozen in time, for enough electricity to course through the victims for the smell of burning flesh to fill the cavernous room.

******

Elliot could still hear their muffled screams echo in his ears, the smell of burnt flesh clinging to him. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying against all hope to force the last hours out of his mind. He took a deep breath, shaking his head as if the movement would somehow dislodge the events from his memory, and opened his eyes to find Olivia staring at him across their desks. It was times like these that Elliot knew why he loved her so much. She wouldn't push him to share his feelings; she wouldn't look at him with hurt in her eyes when he pushed her away. She just knew, without him having to say a word, what he was going through. And that was everything to him.

Elliot held her gaze briefly before getting to his feet and moving to the board. He stared at the latest crime scene photos that had been added to the board. The killer had treated the skin of his victims with some kind of chemical so that when the electricity surged through them the treated skin ignited, burning the latest set of clues into each of the victims.

"Come to where your justice waits," Elliot read aloud, his brow furrowing in concentration. "What the hell does that mean?" He asked in frustration.

"Justice In Death," Olivia said. She stood up and walked over to the board, pointing to the hidden message that Cragen had found. "Think about it El. This guy is fixated on us. He leaves us clues at every crime scene. Not the police, but us specifically. He took pictures of me in my apartment. He sent us a newspaper article on the Riccoli case. He's taken a woman who is either a cop or who he's dressed as one, that looks remarkably like me," she said with a shiver. "Death has come for its revenge. All his pain you'll feel," she read, motioning to the poem.

"This guy is avenging Riccoli?" Elliot asked incredulously, his heart skipping a beat at the idea. He stared at Olivia, for the first time seeing her pale drawn face and the dark circles under her eyes. "Liv," he started quietly.

"Elliot!" Kathy wailed, barreling through the open doors of the squad room. Elliot turned to her, his heart jumping into his throat as he saw the terror on her tear streaked face.

"What's wrong?" He asked, immediately going to her side. "What happened?"

"She's gone," Kathy cried, tears pouring down her face, grasping Elliot's arms tightly. Her eyes searched his. "Kathleen's gone," Kathy choked out.

Elliot felt his heart freeze, indescribable terror pushing its way through his veins. "Tell me what happened, start at the beginning," he said shakily.

"She went out with some friends tonight and she didn't come home when she was supposed to. I thought she was just being rebellious, acting out because of what's going on with us," Kathy cried out, her voice shaking with every word. "So I called her friends and they said they dropped her off at home. They swore to me that the last time they'd seen her she was walking up to the house," she cried, tears cascading down her face. "So I checked her room and found these," she said handing Elliot a long stemmed rose and a scrap of paper. Elliot took it in trembling hands.

'Daddy's girl _so_ sweet, might be good enough to eat. She's _dying_ to see you Elliot. Don't keep me waiting,' Elliot read silently.

"What is it El?" Olivia asked moving towards him, putting her hand gently on his arm. She took the slip of paper from him and read it. "Oh God," she breathed.

He looked up at her, his face tight with anger and white with fear. "He's got her Liv," he said tightly. "This bastard has my daughter."

******

_Reviews make writing go faster ;-)_


	5. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Thank you to all of you who have been so patient with me, waiting for me to finish this chapter. I appreciate all of your support and patience and the reviews. The reviews are really what helped me to be able to do this, so thank you all. Happy reading.

* * *

His fist slammed into the unforgiving steel of the locker door, the metal shrieking in harmony with the pain that pounded under his skin. He hadn't protected her. His _daughter_. The son of a bitch had his daughter.

Elliot slammed his fists into the locker, not noticing or caring when hot tears slid down his face. Blood dripped down the dull gray locker, spattering in an impressionistic spray on the floor.

"Elliot," her voice was both softly sad and harshly demanding at the same time. There was an unspoken plea in her voice asking him to stop beating himself up. But he couldn't, she was his daughter. And he hadn't been there to protect her when she needed him the most. He dropped his hands to his sides, his mind barely registering the dull ache that pulsed through his hands. He sank to his knees, cradling his head in his wounded hands.

Olivia moved to his side, gingerly kneeling beside him and pulling his hands away from his face. She opened the first aid kit she had brought with her and began cleaning the gashes where his skin had split. Elliot watched her silently, too filled with pain to speak. "We're going to find her Elliot," she promised quietly, her tone fierce. "We won't stop until we get this guy," Olivia said, her eyes meeting his. "You don't mess with family," she said with vehemence, her eyes flashing with anger.

* * *

He looked down at her, his eyes gleaming in the dim light that filtered in through the windows. She flinched as his eyes met hers, a small muffled whimper escaping her lips. "You'll have to forgive the manner in which we've come together. You see, it was just a stroke of luck. I went there to leave your Dad a message," he said, his teeth flashing in a smile. "Little did I know that fortune would favor me with you." He chuckled softly. He saw the tremor that went through her at the sound, and saw her steel herself against the fear that coursed through her.

She raised her chin defiantly, forcing herself to meet his eyes. He smiled down at her, lowering himself to kneel in front of her. "We are truly who our fathers have made us aren't we?" He asked quietly, caressing her face gently, his eyes turning glassy with memory. He felt her flinch as his fingers touched her skin, but she didn't pull away, instead locking her gaze with his, her jaw clenching under his touch.

"There is no where you can hide," she bit out through chattering teeth. "My Dad won't stop until he finds me. And it doesn't matter what happens to me," she said, her voice faltering. "He will hunt you down and kill you."

He smiled, a raucous laugh bubbling through his lips. He grabbed her face roughly in his hands, bringing his face within inches of hers. "Who says I'm hiding?" He asked still laughing, his eyes gleaming maniacally in the soft light. He let her go and melted back into the shadows that enveloped the room. His laughter echoed through the room, the sound bouncing off the walls making it seem like he was all around her. She clenched her eyes tightly shut and trembled harder.

* * *

Elliot slammed his fists down on the table in frustration, causing several young officers to jump. Olivia looked up sharply. "El," she said softly, her voice carrying only to his ears. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing tightly.

"Sorry," he apologized gruffly, opening his eyes and grabbing the case file he'd been looking through. They were trying to find anyone from Riccoli's past that might be out to avenge him, anyone they might have missed the first time around.

"Come on," she said firmly, gently grabbing him by the arm and leading him out the door. She led him through the crowded hallway, making her way to the stairwell. Olivia opened the door, pulling him inside before letting the door swing shut.

"Elliot," she said softly, looking up into his eyes. He tore his gaze away from hers and paced over to the stairs.

"I can't stand this," he said, staring at the dull gray wall in front of him. He turned to face her, his face contorted in a mix of rage and terrible fear. "All I can think of is what this animal could be doing to her right now. About how scared she must be," he told her, his throat tightening. "I need… I need to find her."

Olivia sat quietly on the stairs leading to the next floor watching him, his torment spilling over into her. She felt his pain as though it was hers. There was nothing she could say, nothing more that she could do, and it killed her. It killed her to know that when he needed her most, there was nothing she could do.

"We'll find her El," Olivia said softly. She reached out and took his hand briefly in hers. She squeezed it reassuringly. "You have to believe that," she said, her eyes locking with his.

"I'm going back in," she told him. "You coming?"

He squeezed her hand back and shook his head. "I just need a few minutes," he answered.

She nodded her understanding and pulled open the door, dropping his hand. Olivia gave him a small smile and disappeared inside.

Elliot leaned against the wall, the cold hard cement against the back of his head a welcome contrast to the angry fever of his skin. He wanted to scream, to rage at the world. He wanted nothing more than to take out his gun and empty the clip into the son of a bitch that had his daughter.

Why hadn't he taken more precautions? Why hadn't he been there to protect his family? He'd never be able to forgive himself if anything happened to Kathleen. He felt tears prickle his eyes, his throat tightening painfully.

* * *

Olivia leaned against the wall just outside the stairwell door. There was nothing she could do for him. She knew that. After more than a decade of being his partner there was no one that knew that better than she did. She let her eyes drift shut, blocking out what she couldn't do and concentrating instead on the case.

None of this made any sense. They'd been over the Riccoli case dozens of times and there was nothing there that they had missed. Riccoli had never been married and none of his family had survived him. So who was out to avenge him? Olivia's brow furrowed, flashes of memories swirling through her mind.

"Excuse me Detective," a deep male voice spoke. Olivia jumped, her eyes flying open. She looked at the young officer standing in front of her and took a slow deep breath to steady herself. "I'm sorry ma'am. I didn't mean to startle you," he said apologetically. He handed her a bulging white envelope with her name scrawled across the front. "This was left at the front desk for you."

Olivia felt every instinct in her body suddenly jump to high alert. She took the envelope carefully by the edges and said, "Thank you officer." She walked into the squad room and dropped the envelope onto her desk. She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a pair of gloves from the box she kept in her desk. She slipped them on and grabbed her letter opener, the sharp metal sliding through the top of the envelope. She turned the envelope upside down and let the contents tumble to the desk.

She felt her stomach turn as an NYPD shield fell onto the desk. The gold shield laid there staring back at her, its face covered in dried blood. She shakily unfolded the sheet of paper that had accompanied the badge.

_Olivia,_

_Practice makes perfect,_

_But there's no substitute for the real thing._

_Be seeing you soon._

_Riccoli_

Olivia dropped the note on the desk as if the paper had been on fire. She stared at the words unable to tear her eyes away.

Elliot walked into the squad room to find Olivia at her desk. She was staring at something on the desktop, her face ashen and her eyes wide. "Liv, what's wrong?" Elliot asked, fear pounding through him.

She heard Elliot talking to her, knew she should answer, but no words would form. She felt the past pulling her back into its grip, shock immobilizing her. Elliot walked over to her desk, reaching out to take hold of the note.

His eyes scanned the note and he felt his fear turn to cold fury. "Liv, he's dead." He dropped the note back on her desk and reached out to her. His hand touched her shoulder and she flinched, pulling away from him. "Don't let this son of a bitch get to you Olivia. He's trying to play on the trauma of what you went through." Elliot let his hand drop back to his side. Olivia looked at him, her eyes wide with fright.

"I know El. I _know_ Riccoli is dead. But there's this part of me…," her voice trailed off, fear choking the words. "There's this part of me that also knows he's not gone."

* * *

Elliot tossed the folder onto the already covered table with a frustrated sigh. "This is a waste of time," he growled to no one in particular. He stood up, the chair he was sitting in scraping noisily against the floor. Olivia glanced up from the case file she had been poring over.

"What else can we do Elliot? We have no leads and no idea where to begin looking for any. We have to start somewhere."

"I'm looking for information on Tom Riccoli, anything that you've heard would help," Fin said into the phone. "You know I always show my gratitude Rilke." Fin spoke with a light tone but Olivia could see the tension in his face. The whole department was working around the clock to find Elliot's daughter, tracking down any lead that came up and shaking down any informant that they could. "As soon as you can," Fin said tightly before hanging up. He caught Olivia's eye and they exchanged a grim look. They both knew that time was running out. It was only a matter of time before the next crime scene they were called to would have a very personal impact on all of them.

"I can't just sit here," Elliot said, his back to Olivia, staring blindly out the window at the darkening New York skyline. "I can't just sit here and hope that we find her in time." Olivia heard the tears in his voice and knew that he was working hard not to let them fall. "It's my fault," he said softly. "I shouldn't have left them alone. I should have been there."

"El, there's no way you could have been there all the time. You can't blame yourself for this." She watched the muscles in his back move as he moved his arms, bracing his forearms on either side of the window. "Go see your kids Elliot," she said softly. "You need to be with them right now. If anything changes we'll call you." Elliot turned from the window to look at her, meeting her eyes. "I promise," she said.

* * *

He could hardly contain the excitement that he felt. His body felt like a live wire, heavy with an overdose of adrenaline. He sat in the shadows, waiting. It wouldn't be long now. He would have his vengeance, and his father could finally have his justice.

* * *

Olivia hailed a cab and was relieved when one stopped almost immediately. She'd been hard at work when Cragen had demanded that she go home and get some rest for a few hours, threatening her with suspension if she argued. She'd relented, making Munch and Fin promise to call if they found anything. She slid into the backseat and pulled the door shut behind her. "Where to?" The driver asked, already pulling away from the curb. Olivia gave him her address and sat back in the seat watching the city blur by.

There had to be something she was missing, some clue that she had overlooked that would tell her who they were dealing with. She felt like there was something important that she hadn't paid attention to, a nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

"Excuse me," she said tapping on the glass that separated the front of the car from the back. "This isn't the way to my apartment."

The driver laughed. "You know," he said, paying no attention to her comment. "I never expected to get this lucky this soon. My luck just seems to be in full swing," he said with a wry chuckle. "Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket. What do you think Olivia?" He asked, continuing to drive the direction he'd been traveling at increasing speed.

Olivia felt her blood turn cold and her heart drop to her feet. The next few seconds seemed to move in slow motion. The driver pulled down into a deserted area and stopped, keeping the car idling. He reached down into the passenger side floorboard and pulled something up. She saw him slip a gas mask into place with one hand while flicking a switch on the dashboard with the other. Almost immediately a thick cloud of smoke began to fill the car. She reached for her gun, aiming it at the drivers head. She pulled the trigger, the sound of the discharge echoing loudly in her ears. The bullet seemed to hang there in midair, but after several seconds she realized the bullet had impacted the glass but hadn't made it through. Her vision swam and she began to choke.

Olivia couldn't breathe, the air around her foggy and gray. She pulled on the door handle and pushed with all her strength against the door. It wouldn't budge. Her vision began to blur, her eyes getting heavier. Just before she slipped into unconsciousness she met his eyes in the rearview mirror and though she couldn't see the rest of his face she could've sworn that he was smiling.

* * *

Elliot lay on his ex-wife's couch, his hands propped behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling of the living room in the house he had once shared with Kathy, his fingers wrapped loosely around the gun under his pillow. He'd tried to close his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come, his mind moving at high-speed, refusing to stop analyzing the case. He knew he was missing something, he had to be. And he had to find it soon, he knew Kathleen couldn't last much longer. He clutched the gun in his hand tighter.

A knock sounded on the door and Elliot sprang to his feet, his gun in hand. Before the knocking had even stopped Elliot was there pulling the door open, his gun leveled at the visitor. "Whoa," Munch said taking a step back, his hands raised in submission. "It's just me."

Elliot lowered his gun slowly, his eyes scanning the early morning shadows around the tall detective. "Sorry," he apologized. "What's going on?"

Munch lowered his hands, his face grim. "It's Olivia."

* * *

"Olivia," he said, the voice taking on a dream like quality. Olivia tried to shake away the haze that surrounded her vision. She tried to remember where she was, but everything was buried beneath layers of fog, surrounded by pain. She tried to lift her hands to her head but her body wouldn't respond to any of her attempts. She leaned her head back against something solid behind her, letting her eyes slide shut again. The relentless banging inside her skull lessened to a dull pound and she let out a small sigh of relief.

"Olivia?" She heard the small frightened voice call to her through the haze that surrounded her. The voice had a vaguely familiar quality that she couldn't place. She fought against the darkness that seemed like her only friend and opened her eyes, trying to find the owner of the voice through the blackness. She tried to make her mouth work, but all that came out was a small strangled sound.

She heard a sob echo in the darkness and felt something inside her stir. The fog began to thin and memory flooded her. She lifted her head, wincing at the pain that ricocheted through her head. Her eyes began to focus as they swept the room, landing on the form of a young woman who sat across from her bound.

"Kathleen?" Olivia managed to get out, her mind working furiously to recover from whatever drug had been pumped into her system.

"Olivia?" Kathleen squeaked, relief flooding her voice.

She heard his laugh echo through the room and felt her stomach lurch at the familiar sound coming at her. She shivered as memory flooded through her and for an instant she was back in that high school basement watching helplessly as Riccoli stalked her from the darkness.

"Glad to see you've come back to us Olivia," he said, his voice circling her. "We've got so much to talk about before Elliot gets here."

Olivia felt her throat tighten and had to fight to keep the paralyzing panic she felt from overwhelming her. She was a decorated police officer who had gone through extensive training. She'd been in this situation before, okay so not quite this same situation but close, and had survived it. This time would be no different, she couldn't let herself think anything else.

Olivia closed her eyes, partly to stop the dizzying spin the room had begun, and partly to try and sense where he was in the darkness around them.

"What do you want?" She asked, her eyes still closed, listening intently.

He chuckled mirthlessly. "I want my father back," he said reaching forward and grabbing a fistful of her hair roughly, pulling her head back.

Olivia gasped, her eyes snapping open, meeting the eyes of the young officer that had delivered the package to her earlier that night. "But since you killed him, I'll settle for you and your partner suffering a long and painful death."

* * *

Reviews are appreciated ;-)


	6. Chapter 5

Author's Note: First I'd like to apologize for this obscenely late update. I had computer issues, ISP issues, school issues, family issues, and writer's block. In short it's been hell to get this out. I am so grateful to those of you who have reviewed and stuck with me. This is for you ;-). Well, this is the last installment of the story. I had planned to go into it more, develop the story and characters more. But the longer I tried the more impossible it seemed. So here it is, the alteration to my original plan for this story. Hope you like it.

* * *

It was worse than hollow, this lifeless void that had taken up residency inside him. It was eating away at him slowly, torturously. He'd been over every single piece of testimony that had ever been given, anything at all that remotely tied to Riccoli. And they were still no closer to finding Olivia or his daughter.

He sat at his desk, staring at her empty chair, her absence pounded through him with a dull ache. The rest of the world disappeared around him, his vision tunneling until all he could see was her absence.

"Elliot." The voice sounded distant as though it traveled through a great distance to reach his ears. He ignored the sound, emptiness swathing him in its embrace. It felt terrifying and oddly comforting at the same time. He wanted nothing more than to surrender to this, this feeling of complete emptiness. He wouldn't have to feel the pain he knew was coming, and that alone was more intoxicating than any drug could ever be.

"Elliot." The voice broke through again, this time sounding closer than before. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He wanted to shake it off, to rid himself of the sudden anchor to the world that was slowly coming back into focus, the world where only pain waited for him. But his body refused to obey his commands. Gradually his vision focused, the darkness around him slowly fading as the dim light of the squad room burned into his eyes. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying desperately to block out the onslaught of sensation that clamored for his attention.

The hand lifted off his shoulder and he opened his eyes to see Munch leaning against his desk, his concern for Elliot naked in his eyes. Elliot felt the unnerving compulsion to give in to the treacherous tears he could feel hovering just at the edge of his control.

"What's up John?" He asked, his voice feeling scratchy in his throat. He tried to bring his vision into focus but his eyes refused the command. He let his eyes slide shut for a second, hoping that the sudden darkness would help to cement his already fragile control.

"Not much I'm afraid. We've sent out word to every snitch and low life out there for information. Some of us have even pooled together to put up a reward, but so far we've got nothing."

Elliot felt the threads of his control slipping through his fingers, the familiar heat of rising anger flooding his skin. "That's what you came over here to tell me John? That there's nothing new, that we're not one damn bit closer to finding my daughter or Olivia?" Elliot seethed.

Munch looked at him, raising his hands in a sign of surrender. "I'm worried about you Elliot, that's all. We all are," he said quietly.

* * *

Olivia stared at him, his eyes filled with hatred and unbelievable rage. She fought to control her breathing as her mind rapidly processed the new turns this case had taken. "Your father was Tom Riccoli?" Olivia asked, trying to keep the fear she felt out of her voice. She needed to keep him talking until she could figure out a way to get Kathleen out of harms way.

He yanked on her hair, pulling her head further back so that she stared directly up at the ceiling, Riccoli's son towering over her. "He was all I had bitch," he bit off savagely. "And you took him from me!" He yelled. Olivia cried out as she felt his knife cut across her skin in a flash of white hot pain. She could feel the blood already running in thick rivulets down the front of her shirt.

"Olivia!" Kathleen cried out in a panicked voice.

Olivia struggled against the pain and the rising terror and called out to Kathleen. "It's okay sweetheart. I'm okay."

Her captor let go of her hair and moved away from where she was chained. Several seconds of silence passed and Olivia was just beginning to think that he'd left when she heard his voice resonate through the room. "I do apologize for my outburst Olivia. There is a time and place for such feelings to be expressed and now is not the time." He walked into the light holding medical supplies and knelt down in front of her. "Can you forgive me?" He asked solemnly.

* * *

_I'll find you,_ he promised silently, his eyes sliding closed. Elliot leaned back in his chair, feeling contemptible sorrow threaten to drown him. He felt hollow without her, and the knowledge of that, the utter lack of defense against these feelings, made him feel more helpless than he'd ever felt. He felt the first stirrings of tears begin the prickle against the backs of his eyes, his throat tightening painfully.

John Munch watched his friend surreptitiously, the heart he'd thought had dried up into a useless husk a long time ago tightening painfully at the feeling of absolute torture that radiated off Elliot. He glanced over at his partner, their eyes meeting briefly, sharing their concern silently. Fin picked up the phone again, already dialing another informant before he'd even dropped his partners gaze. He clutched the phone tightly in his hand, pressing it to his ear. "Mike, it's Fin. I need a favor."

* * *

He sat quietly in the dark, trying to calm himself. He hadn't meant to get so carried away, unprepared for the intensity with which his emotions had erupted. She had made him lose control. His eyes narrowed and he felt the sharp bitterness of blood fill his mouth. He shuddered violently, the memories of failures of the past flooding through him, as vivid now as they had been then. His father had demanded perfection and there was no room for anything else. He brought his blade swiftly across the scarred skin of his upper thigh, a low hiss pressing out from between clenched teeth. He closed his eyes as the torrent of sudden pain bathed him in amnesty. He stroked the blade across his skin again, feeling the blood running hotly down his thigh, hearing the soft almost silent splat as it fell to the cement floor.

* * *

Elliot stared out the window, his back to the squad room. He watched the bustling city that pulsed just outside the windows of the precinct with hollow detachment. 'How could the world continue as though nothing had changed?' He wondered dimly. He felt a momentary surge of anger at the unfairness of life before the emotion fell away again into the emptiness that consumed him.

Behind him he could hear the bustle of action, the frantic scrambling of his brothers and sisters in blue racing to help one of their own. It seemed like only yesterday it was Tom Riccoli that held Olivia's life in his hands. Now she was gone again, taken. He should have been there to protect her or at least insisted she have a detail put on her. As soon as the thought entered his mind he dismissed it. He knew she would never have gone for it. He'd learned that the hard way.

Elliot sighed, leaning his head against the cold glass of the window, his eyes closing tightly against the flood of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. They were gone, and it was his fault. He had been careless and it had gotten two of the most important people in his life taken. He felt tears building behind his eyelids, his throat tightening painfully as he ruthlessly pushed his emotions aside. This wasn't going to help, all the recriminations and self-doubt in the world wouldn't get Olivia and Kathleen back. He needed to focus and find a way to help them.

Elliot felt a hand land on his shoulder and dimly realized that Munch had been calling his name. He took a deep breath before turning to face his friend. Munch's troubled face made his heart seize in his chest. Something had happened. _God, please let them be alright._ Elliot sent up the silent prayer.

"We may have a lead."

* * *

"Olivia?" Kathleen's voice was small and tight with tension and barely controlled terror.

"Yeah sweetheart?" Olivia answered, struggling against her cuffs, straining until the pain in her arms threatened to make her blackout.

"I'm scared," Kathleen whispered, her voice thick with tears.

Olivia closed her eyes, desperately trying to fight back the memories of the last time she'd woken up in this situation. She had to find some way to reassure Kathleen, to keep her calm for as long as possible.

"I have faith in your Dad, and in the other officers I work with. I know they won't give up and we can't either."

Olivia heard Kathleen's small sigh echo across the dark room and let out one of her own.

* * *

Elliot slammed the clip into his gun and hurriedly slid into the bulletproof jacket Fin handed him. The muscles in his jaw jump, his teeth grinding as he took up position behind the strike team leader. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as memories bombarded him. He was dimly aware of the rest of the team taking their positions around him, but it was as though he viewed the scene from a distance. He heard the command to move and the world came slamming back at him full force. He raised his gun and moved, keeping low to the ground as he cleared the door.

* * *

Olivia jumped and Kathleen screamed as the door to the warehouse slammed open. Men rushed inside and the space flooded with unexpected light. She heard the shouted warning of '_Police' _andOlivia squinted against the sudden light and felt relief flood through her. _ Elliot. _Her shoulders shook with silent tears as she let go of all the pent up emotions she'd held in check.

Elliot moved quickly, silently searching the shadows. He felt his heart beating rapidly in his throat, his legs shaking as he continued into the building. He heard the other officers around him as they cleared the rest of the building.

"Call a bus," someone shouted.

Elliot's legs almost gave out as he heard the cry for help, unable to bear the thought of either of his girls being hurt. "Officer down," came the cry. Elliot felt his heart stop, he actually felt it stop beating for the faction of a second that he thought of a life without Olivia in it. He raced towards the voice, everything else forgotten. He pushed through the circle of cops and felt a sharp pang of relief as he saw the young man lying half slumped on the floor, a huge puddle of blood slowly spreading across the floor.

His knees felt weak with relief and he half stumbled, half fell away from the officers, catching a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. He focused his vision on the shadows that were moving towards him. He watched in awed silence as Munch and Fin advanced on where he stood dumbstruck. They both supported Olivia and Kathleen. When he saw them he moved on jellied legs, unable to stay still any longer. He opened his arms and his daughter tore away from Fin, running headlong into his arms with a strangled cry. "Daddy," she sobbed, burying her face in his shoulder. His arms closed around her, one hand moving up to stroke her hair, his eyes trained on the advancing form of his partner.

"Shhh," he whispered into her hair. "It's okay baby. I'm here. You're safe."

Olivia pulled away from Munch, standing on her own in front of Elliot and his daughter, her eyes never leaving his. Munch and Fin moved away to go help the other officers who were searching the rest of the building. Elliot held out his hand to Olivia, his other still stroking his daughter's back soothingly. Olivia put her hand in his and felt herself pulled forward to rest at his side. She angled her head up to look at him and felt tears sliding down her cheeks. Elliot's arm locked around her waist and he lowered his head so that his forehead rested on hers. His eyes slid shut and he felt tears slide down his own cheeks.

* * *

"I still can't believe it," Olivia said, standing beside Elliot in the M.E's office. Cragen had ordered her to go home, to rest after the ordeal she'd been through. But she hadn't been able to, not before she saw for herself that Riccoli's "son" was dead.

In the days that had followed her rescue they'd learned who the young officer had been. Riccoli had abducted the boy from his mother when he was just two years old after brutally raping and beating her in front of him. The boy's mother had died as a result of her injuries and with no other family to keep up the search the boy had been all but forgotten. The child had spent the rest of his childhood under the brutal tutelage of Tom Riccoli.

Olivia shivered as she peered down at the body, the feeling of extreme sadness for what had happened to the once innocent child turned demented murderer making her ache with pity. If only someone had gotten to him sooner, he might have been saved.

"Cause of death?" Olivia asked.

Melinda Warner, the chief medical examiner put down her tools and took off her gloves. "Cause of death was a deep laceration to the thigh, which severed the femoral artery. He would've bled out within minutes," she said.

Olivia looked over at her partner, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. She put her hand on his arm and said softly, "El." He pulled his gaze away from the body and met hers. She could feel the tension and anger in him falling away. Olivia turned back to face the M.E. "Thanks Melinda," she said with a tired smile.

* * *

They rode in silence all the way back to her apartment. Elliot followed her up to her apartment and Olivia breathed a small sigh as she walked through her door. She let the door swing wide and shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it on the chair in her living room before heading for the kitchen.

"Coffee?" She asked, already starting the machine before he could answer. When silence was her only answer she turned around to find Elliot staring at her.

"Something bothering you Liv?" He asked. She started to shake her head, already mumbling something about just being tired but she stopped mid sentence as her eyes met his.

"I don't know how to do this Elliot," she said folding her arms tightly across her chest.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, cocking his head to the side as he studied her.

She motioned to the space between them. "This," she said quietly. "Us. What if it doesn't work out between us? What if we try this and it ruins everything?"

"Olivia," Elliot said taking a step towards her. She backed up into the counter and wrapped her hands around herself. He stopped mid-step and stood his ground watching her.

"The whole time he had me," she said with a shudder. "The one thing that kept running through my head was you. I was so afraid that I'd never get to see you again. And all I could think was how you mean more to me than anyone has ever meant to me in my entire life." She turned away from him and pulled two mugs out of the cupboard and set them on the counter in front of her. "You are more important to me than anything else in this world," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "I've never had this, this connection, with anyone. I've never been good at relationships, and I'm so damn scared of screwing this up." She felt him come up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist.

"I've been your partner for more than a decade now Benson." He spoke so close to her ear that his words caused the hair against the nape of her neck to stir, her breath to catching in her throat at the unexpected shiver that raced through her. "I've been there for the bad haircuts, and the bad break-ups with all the losers you dated. I've lived through your bitchy-because-I-can-be phases. I know all your secrets, all your bad habits, and all your fears. And I'm still here. If all that didn't get rid of me what kind of moron would I have to be to give up now that I have everything I've ever wanted right in my arms?" He turned her around to face him and smiled. "I love you, and nothing is going to change that. I'm not going anywhere."

Olivia smiled up at him, her arms moving around him. "I had no idea you were such a girl Stabler," she said teasingly.

He laughed and shook his head ruefully. "You're such a romantic Benson," he said before lowering his lips to touch hers.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips.

He chuckled and pulled her closer. "I knew that too," he said with a wink before smothering her oncoming comment with a kiss that made her knees weaken and her mind blank.

THE END


End file.
